


The Row

by sonictrowel



Series: Long Night in the Blue House [27]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Makeup Sex, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonictrowel/pseuds/sonictrowel
Summary: He was buggering it all up, and it was going to be up to her to take him to task for it, because she was done with this sitting back and pining rubbish.  They only had so much time, and now they were wasting it.  He needed to get over whatever the hell it was and start being her husband again.It must’ve been at least four in the morning, and she hadn’t slept a wink.  Falling asleep without him was so unnatural to her now that even though she was exhausted, it was no use.This was just stupid.





	

It had been a miserable couple of weeks.

The Doctor wasn’t himself; at least, not the version of this self that River had come to know on Darillium.  He wasn’t just fun-grumpy anymore.  He seemed on edge.  His patience had evaporated almost completely, and he kept snapping at Nardole.  He never snapped at River, but he was growing more and more distant, which, especially in such stark contrast to the way things had been for the past thirteen years… well, it stung.  At times, he looked positively mad with stress, or totally deflated, but he dismissed it whenever she tried to talk to him.  They weren’t supposed to be doing that anymore.

River stirred restlessly in the sheets, staring up at the ceiling.  He hadn’t come to bed yet.  Tired of being brushed off with the barest of acknowledgments, she hadn’t bothered kissing him goodnight when she walked past the study and told him she was going to sleep, and he didn’t move from his chair when he frowned at her and said “okay.”

She hadn’t been sleeping well, with him tossing and turning all night instead of holding her, when he was in bed at all.  And the first time she’d started kissing his neck and trailing her fingers over his hips only to have him push her hands away with a mumbled apology, well, she was surprised, but didn’t think too much of it.  After the third consecutive time, she stopped trying.

He was spending a lot of time fussing about at the TARDIS console at all hours of the day and night, but he would always stop and shut off the monitors if she came in, and seemed to barely contain his frustration with her for intruding.  He probably couldn’t tell her— at least she _hoped_ that was why he hadn’t.  She knew spoilers had been weighing on him for years, but they hadn’t budged from this spot in so long.  River wasn’t even working anymore, so they were in the house together pretty much constantly, if not as closely situated now as they usually were.  What could she possibly have missed?

Maybe it was what he’d tried to tell her without really telling her.  That he didn’t know yet if tomorrow was the end for them.  He didn’t know if they would be together outside of this loop in their timelines, but he hoped.  Maybe something had changed.  Maybe he’d gotten some new information somehow, and didn’t like what he’d learned.

River’s stomach tied in knots at the thought.

Or maybe he’d just had enough of this.  Maybe he was itching to leave and couldn’t stand to stay in one place anymore, couldn’t stand to spend his days slowly counting down to a painful end.  He didn’t like endings.  Maybe he was trying to make it easier to walk away.

No— _no,_ fuck that.  She was done thinking like that.  She never just imagined that he loved her.  That was real; always had been real, and she wasted so, so many years— so many decades not fully believing it.  And getting in her head like this, talking herself out of it, she’d done that for far too long.  She _knew_ now.  But he was breaking the rule.  He was buggering it all up, and it was going to be up to her to take him to task for it, because she was done with this sitting back and pining rubbish.  They only had so much time, and now they were wasting it.  He needed to get over whatever the hell it was and start being her husband again.

It must’ve been at least four in the morning, and she hadn’t slept a wink.  Falling asleep without him was so unnatural to her now that even though she was exhausted, it was no use.  

This was just stupid.

She sat up, the ache of accumulated sleep deprivation throbbing behind her eyes, and threw herself out of bed.  She was so very tired, and didn’t want to lose her momentum or her nerve, so she didn’t bother stopping for her slippers or dressing gown, striding purposefully down the corridor, barefoot in her vest and knickers.  Hopefully Nardole wouldn’t come to investigate if he heard them having a domestic.

God, they hadn’t fought in forever.  She hoped she remembered how to be angry instead of just hurt, because she needed to make him fucking listen to her.  

She didn’t pause to let him speak when she stormed into the study.  

“What the hell is the matter with you?” she demanded.  

The Doctor blinked at her, frowning.  He had her mother’s reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose and a load of thick Gallifreyan texts spread across the desk.  

“What d’you—”

“You know what I mean,” she cut him off.  “Skulking about the console all the time, being a total twat to poor Nardole, constantly pushing me away.  We don’t do this anymore.  We don’t hide things and treat each other like this.   _You_ promised me that.  Just tell me what the fuck is going on!”

He looked as tired as she felt.  He took his glasses off and dragged his hands slowly down his face.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  “If I could tell you, I would.”

“You had better tell me _something_ , Doctor, because this isn’t right.”

“River,” he murmured plaintively, looking utterly miserable.  “I don’t know what I can say.  It’s not up to me.”

“Where are you getting all these bloody new spoilers?  We haven’t gone anywhere!  We’ve been here together this whole damn time!  What’s changed?”

“I…” he sighed, and was quiet for a few moments, his face pained.  “I figured something out,” he said finally.  “It’s about a... friend.  I’m worried for them.”

“So why are you taking it out on _me?_  You can’t just shut me out, Doctor, not after everything… not after letting me get used to— to this.  To us.  You can’t just take it all away.”  Her voice was wavering and her vision was blurring but she was _angry,_ damnit.  She wasn’t going to cry.

“Oh, River.  I didn’t mean...”  As she blinked back her tears, he actually looked like _he_ was going to cry.  But neither of them moved.

“You know I would have trusted and believed whatever you told me— even if it was that you couldn’t tell me anything.  At least that would still be honest.  At least it would be respecting me enough to talk to me.”

He winced and looked down into the pile of books, eyes unfocussed.  “I… don’t cope with things very well, sometimes.  You might’ve noticed.”  He smiled humourlessly and rested his elbow on the desk, tilting his head to the side and rubbing at his furrowed brow.  “I can’t tell you anything, and every time I see you and can’t tell you, I just... don’t know what to do.  I should have talked to you.”

“You don’t even want to be near me,” River half-whispered, glancing down at her bare toes and feeling ridiculous.

“That’s not true,” the Doctor said immediately, his head snapping up to look at her.

She scoffed.  “Then where the hell have you been for two weeks?”

“...I don’t know,” he sighed at length, running his hand through his hair.  “I don’t know.  I’m sorry.  I’ve been so…”  He exhaled and shook his head.  “It’s important, River, _really_ important.  And if things were different, if it were any other night in our lives, we’d leave right now and do something about it.  If you knew it all, you’d insist.  But that isn’t what happens tonight.  We stay here, and we can’t interfere in this.  Not yet.  And I don’t— I don’t know how to deal with it without you,” he finished hoarsely.

“You don’t _have_ to deal with it without me, you muppet!”  Whatever this was, it was completely eating him up.  Her heart ached for him, but he still wasn’t being fair.  “I’m right here!  Even if you can’t tell me, don’t pretend like I wouldn’t understand!  Don’t pretend like I’m not right bloody in front of you!”

The Doctor winced again.  “I’m sorry.  I—” he stopped, shaking his head.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry, River.  I’m sorry.”  He sighed heavily and looked up to meet her eyes.  “This is no fun at all.”

River let out a breath, running out of all her righteous anger until she was just tired, lonely and sad.  “It isn’t, is it?” she said softly.

His lips nearly twitched into a sad smile, and finally he rose from his chair.  

Feeling suddenly nervous, afraid of what he might— or really, might _not—_ do, River’s gaze fell to the floor again as her body tensed and her heart pounded.

Then he was so close, moving into her personal space, where he belonged, and she trembled with the effort of not moving or bursting into tears.  She felt his hand tentatively rest against her cheek and she screwed her eyes shut, breathing shakily.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  “I’m so sorry, dear.”

“Are you done being an idiot?” she asked, her voice quivering along with the rest of her.

The Doctor made a little sound, somewhere between wry amusement and a sob.  “Never will be, I’m afraid.”  But he moved his other hand to her other cheek and she finally lifted her eyes to look at him.  His were red and watery, his face pinched with hurt and remorse.

“River, I never meant to do... this.  I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  I love you so much.”  His voice was soft and warm and sounded the way it should when he talked to her, and she tried to swallow back the lump forming in her throat.

“I love you,” she whispered, and then he leaned in and finally his lips were on hers.  Not some quick peck before pushing her away, but soft and open, moving slowly and intently, his thumbs stroking gently over her cheeks.  Her heart fluttered madly and warmth flooded her body as he kissed her like nothing in the universe was so important, drawing her in again and again with a pull irresistible as gravity.

God, she had missed this so much it hurt.  She was so thoroughly gone, now.  Beyond in love, beyond besotted; addicted.  She _craved_ his presence, his touch, his gruff voice turning soft only for her, his eyes bright with open adoration, his kiss stirring her down to her soul.  They were bonded somehow at a molecular level, and the distance between them had felt like being torn in two.  After having all of this, all of him, for all these years, how could she ever bear to live a single day without him again?  If that's what awaited her after tonight, she wished she wouldn't have to.

“Will you come to bed?” she asked when their lips momentarily parted.  He nodded and moved his arms down around her waist, pulling her gently against him and walking her backwards out of the study.

He kicked the bedroom door shut behind them.  When they reached the bed, the Doctor laid her down on the mattress, climbing on above her.  He never stopped kissing her, tender and slow, like a continuation of the apologies repeating over and over in his head, so close and strong she couldn’t help but hear.  His mind was bursting; without even reaching out to make the connection, she felt the terror he’d been grappling with, though she couldn’t see the cause.  She felt the overwhelming pain and guilt for having hurt her.  She felt so _desperately_ loved.

She sighed, and projected one thing to him: _"D_ _on’t ever do that again."_

“Slap me if I do,” he whispered against her lips.

“Don’t give me a reason,” she growled in response.

He answered her with another long, languid kiss, and she let out a soft moan of pleasure.  

When they surfaced for air again several minutes later, he mumbled, “I wasn’t supposed to know.”  She looked at him questioningly and he shook his head slowly.  “I wasn’t supposed to know this yet because I can’t do a damn thing about it.  All I can do is panic, when what I need to be thinking about is this: us, right now.  Nothing else matters if I bugger this all up.  I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

She sighed.  “You’re forgiven, darling.  I wish I could help.  I wish I could know what you're dealing with.”

“God, so do I.  Someday.”

“You still have hope?  That there will be a,” she swallowed down the lump in her throat again, “a ‘someday?’”

“Oh, River, of course.”  He pressed quick, light kisses all over her face, and his eyes were pained when he looked into hers.  “I can’t tell you more and I can’t say for certain.  I can’t promise it’ll work out.  But I promise you I’m not giving up.  Don't you give up on me either, mm?”

“Of course I won't," River scoffed, but her voice sounded thin and strained.  She took a deep, shaky breath as she stroked her fingers over the back of his neck.  "I don’t want to live without you,” she finally whispered, blinking back tears.  “If that’s all I have left, I don’t want it.”

“Neither do I,” the Doctor said, the corners of his mouth just pulling up into a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  He looked just like Babyface, then.  She grabbed his face and brought his lips back to hers.

When his hands moved to the hem of her vest, River let out a sigh of relief, nodding for him to go on.  She was much closer to being undressed than he was already, so she quickly worked to catch him up.  When their clothes were all tossed to the floor, she rolled them over, straddling his stomach and keeping him where she could easily see him.  He looked up at her with rapt attention, one hand trailing over the curve of her hip.  His other hand reached out to grab hers, and he brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers.  

“Nothing gets to touch this," she said, gripping his hand tight and locking her eyes on his.  "Whatever happens, we don't let it get between us, okay?"

“Okay,” he said immediately, his face solemn.  “I promise.  I’m so sorry, honey.”

She shook her head, spreading her free hand flat on his chest, spanning the space between his hearts.  “Enough of that.  Better things now.”  Her eyes flicked back up to his.  “I mean, if you want—”

“Yes,” he interrupted.  “I miss you.  I want you.  I love you.”

River sighed quietly again, smiling down at him, flooded with love and relief.  Back to her new Doctor, the one who always seemed to know when she needed to hear those big, simple things, and never held them back.

She rose on her knees again, moving down over his hips.

“Wait,” he said, and leaned up on his elbows, pulling himself farther back on the bed and sitting upright before reaching for her, a soft smile on his face.  River crawled closer and he held her up as she brought her legs over his hips, sinking down onto him as her weight dropped back to the mattress.

 _“Oh,”_ she said, the sound rough and drawn out, and the Doctor slid his arms up, squeezing her tight against him.  They were perfectly aligned, face to face, chest to chest, limbs thrown around each other, and joined as deeply as possible.  She had missed him so damn much, even when he was right beside her.  Now he was _everywhere_ , holding her so close, kissing her face while his warm hands roamed over her skin, filling her every sense, and she never wanted it to end.

“God, River,” he nearly whimpered.  “I love you so much.  I've been such a sodding prick, I didn't mean—”

“Shh,” she said softly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes while she stroked his hair.  “Doesn’t matter now, darling.”

The Doctor's eyes were wet as he leaned in to her, and she crashed her mouth impatiently against his.  He responded eagerly, all soft lips, searching tongue, and desperate passion.  Her head spun.  She was so utterly in love with him, sometimes it was almost hard to breathe.  And it wasn’t just from the snogging.  

Neither of them had much leverage in their mirrored positions, but it was perfect just to be so close, to hold each other, to kiss and tell each other all the things that had gone unsaid.  They rocked together, letting the heat between them permeate slowly, with no urgency, no hurry.  The Doctor pressed his lips to her cheeks and her neck and her shoulders and her lips and her nose, mumbling I love yous between every second or third kiss, until she was grinning under the onslaught of his affection, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

“Sorry I’m such a fucking idiot,” he whispered when he’d made his way back to kissing her face.

River shrugged and shook her head softly, wiggling her hips against him and letting out a soft moan.  “I knew what I was getting into,” she teased breathlessly.

“What, when you married me?”

“Obviously.”

He smiled that warm, wonderful smile that always made her suddenly understand the phrase “heart-melting.”  Lots of parts of her didn’t feel quite solid when he looked at her like that.

“But you didn’t know how much I love you,” he said, leaning in close to her ear.

“Guess we’re both idiots,” she replied, hugging him tight around the shoulders.

“Well, we are bespoke,” he said, his smile audible in his voice.

“What can I do, darling?” River asked, serious again.  “What can I do to help with whatever this is?”

The Doctor sighed.  “Keep kicking my arse and showing me you know what’s good for me.  As usual.  If you don’t mind.”

“Okay,” she said, turning her lips to his neck and breathing in the wonderful, warm, comforting scent of his skin.  “I can do that.”

 

Eventually, they slept.  They both had a lot of that to catch up on, too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this little blip of trouble in paradise didn't upset anyone too much, you know I'd never leave it in a bad place with these two :) But hey, the Doctor's got a lifetime of dealing poorly with emotional stress, he'll relapse occasionally.


End file.
